An elegy on the Most Reverend Father in God, His Grace, John, late Lord Archbishop of Canterbury by N. Tate ... Tate, Nahum, 1652-1715. 1695 Approx. 16 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 8 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2003-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A62908 Wing T186 ESTC R188 11940742 ocm 11940742 51275 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A62908) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 51275) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 516:20) An elegy on the Most Reverend Father in God, His Grace, John, late Lord Archbishop of Canterbury by N. Tate ... Tate, Nahum, 1652-1715. [4], 11 p. Printed for B. Aylmer ..., and W. Rogers ..., London : 1695. First edition. Reproduction of original in Huntington Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. Gap elements of known extent have been transformed into placeholder characters or elements to simplify the filling in of gaps by user contributors. 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Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements). Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Tillotson, John, 1630-1694 -- Poetry. 2002-02 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2002-02 Apex CoVantage Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2002-03 TCP Staff (Michigan) Sampled and proofread 2002-03 John Latta Text and markup reviewed and edited 2002-04 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion AN ELEGY ON THE Most Reverend Father in God , HIS GRACE , JOHN , LATE Lord Archbishop of CANTERBURY . By N. TATE , Servant to His Majesty . LONDON : Printed for B. Aylmer , at the Three Pigeons against the Royal-Exchange in Cornhill ; and W. Rogers at the Sun against St. Dunstan's Church in Fleet-street . MDCXCV . TO THE READER . T WAS Reverence for so Extraordinary a Subject , not Want of Inclination , that so long withheld me from making This Attempt : And I could willingly have supprest it , in the Consternation that has since befall'n us . But 't is now Publish'd in Submission to some Persons , whose Respect for the Great Deceas'd , inclin'd them to think too favourably of the Performance . However , if the Picture I have drawn of so great a Man be dislik'd , it may oblige some more Skilful Hand to do Right to His Memory , for whose Character the World has so just a Veneration . N. T. Licensed , JANUARY 1. 1694 / 5. AN ELEGY On His GRACE JOHN , Late Lord Archbishop of CANTERBURY . COmplaints , like Ours , in Ramah's Vale were heard , When Samuel's Awful Reliques were interr'd . Like Him , by Heav'n approv'd , and Earth admir'd , Our Age's greatest Prophet is Expir'd ! Just Honours to his Sepulchre we 'll pay , But some kind Seraph must instruct the way . A Garland for his Marble we 'll compose Of Syrian Lillies , and the Sharon Rose : Arabia's Spice in one rich Pile should flame , And Gilead's Balm , less precious than his Name . But when the Treasures of the East are spent In pious Off'rings at his Monument , All Rites perform'd that to his Urn belong , To whom shall Fame entrust the Fun'ral Song ? The Graces Speechless to his Shrine repair , Ev'n Art and Wit stand silent Mourners There ; Yet bolder Zeal will Bands of Duty break , And Gratitude be priviledg'd to speak . True Passion too can Inspiration bring , 'T was Grief first taught the Nightingal to sing From His , as from Elijah's powerful Tomb , Ev'n my dead Muse shall vital Warmth resume . Heark ! from on high I hear a Seraph say , Hence ye unhallow'd , for my Charge make way : The Crowd retire — a Matron streight appears , Stars on her Head , her Face bedew'd with Tears , How charming are her Looks — Tho doubly now opprest with Grief and Years ! Divine * Eusebia , tho in Sables drest , Is still by her Angelick Mien confest . Charm'd with her Voice the listning Winds repair , While Thus her balmy Sighs perfume the Air. Pity me , Heaven , for your All-searching Eye Can only to my Grief 's deep Centre pry . Behold me , once of Mothers the most blest , Of Mourning Mothers now the most distrest ! Compell'd my Temple's Glory to resign , My SUN extinguish'd , who with Rays divine Blaz'd out , and taught my Younger Stars to Shine . My Pow'rful Pan , my Ruling Pastor's dead , Whose Pious Care my Flocks and Shepherds fed . When mighty Realms enslav'd to Error lay , And Empires stoop'd to Mystick Babel's sway , Then could I boast , such was my Patriarch's Care , To shew th' Apostate World an Apostolick Chair . To Envy I appeal ( for we may trust Envy her self with such Religious Dust ) , If ever Guide with more Reluctance took , Or menag'd with such Skill my Ruling Crook . A Crook , that once committed to His Hand , Wrought Miracles , and bloom'd like Aaron's Wand . Endu'd with Power to work my Flocks Increase , And charm Contending Shepherds into Peace : Not wily Jacob's Mystick Arts of old , Prevail'd with such Success on Laban's Fold , As his unblemish'd open Life , to gain The Separating Straglers of the Plain . Matrons Abroad , for Reformation fam'd , From Superstitious Vanities reclaim'd , My Temple 's Ancient Honour saw Renew'd , And bless'd my Stars , and for my Friendship su'd . On Me these Blessings my kind Saint conferr'd ; Transporting Blessings ! — but with him interr'd . With faint Delight shall I my Vintage press , Listless the Harvest of his Toils possess , Bereav'd of Him who did my Comforts bless . As Israel's Guide from Pisgah's Mount withdrew , The Desart pass'd , and promis'd Land in view ; To such rebated Joys my Tribes are led , Canaan in Prospect , but their Leader dead ! How short-liv'd was the Transport I possest , For which with Tears I had so oft addrest ! For This did Saints and Angels long intreat , And Caesar court him to my Past'ral Seat ? Approach my Sons , with Me approach his Shrine ; In One Condoling Dirge your Voices join ; Your Albion-Rocks with these sad Accents rend , We have a Father Lost , Mankind a Friend . Thus mourn'd the Matron , and with Sighs opprest , His Sacred Urn embracing , Wept the Rest. With no less Passion Britain's State Complain'd ; No less the Loss that Britain's State sustain'd . When threatning Danger did the Realm surprize , Not Homer's Nestor could , like Him , Advise . His Words , as if Inspir'd , Impression made , Ulysse's Skill , without his Craft , display'd : His Counsels ne'er were varnish'd o'er with Art : With Policy He still did Truth impart ; Spoke Oracles , — but always spoke his Heart . No passive Gorgon did his Reason charm , To hang dead Weights on our Restorer's Arm : His Measures He from sacred Sanctions drew , To Heav'n and to his Countries Int'rest , true . Hence , by respect to Him , her Friends were known ; And she discover'd in His Foes her own . When first in Learning's Orb His Lustre blaz'd , The World look'd up , transported and amaz'd ; Nor less surpriz'd , bewail his Beams withdrawn , Pensive and hopeless of another Dawn . So , pleas'd and wondring , our great Parent view'd The first day's Sun , and with charm'd Eyes pursu'd ; And when from Sight the setting Lamp withdrew , So He out-wept the Night's distilling Dew ; In sable Shades , Grief's Vigil kept untir'd , With Looks still Westward fix'd , where Day expir'd . The Labyrinths of knowledge He descry'd , With REASON like a Sibyl for his Guide , And with Her Oracles divinely blest , As happily her Dictates he exprest . His pow'rfull Style an artfull Nature grac't ; Expressive words and all with Judgment plac't ; Hence they , like chosen well-rank'd Troops prevail'd , And through the Hearer's Ear his Soul assail'd . His Eloquence was neither course nor vain , From Arrogance and Stiffness did refrain , Courtly Familiar , and Majestick Plain . Extensive Sense He into compass drew , Said what was Just , and always something New ; That did surprizingly our Souls delight , As sov'raign Beauty conquers at first Sight . He , thus compleatly Arm'd for Truth 's Defence , His pious Warfare early did commence . Gigantick Atheism first His Vigour try'd , A daring Foe that Heaven it self defy'd : Ev'n Hell at first this Monster 's Brood disclaim'd , Nor one fall'n Angel knew for Atheism damn'd , But Earth , more impious than the Realms of Night , Sent Hell a Race of Fiends that did her Furies fright . Ah stupid Crew ! who Reason wou'd employ Eternal Reason's Essence to destroy ! The Fable's now to impious practice grown , These Sons of Earth wou'd Heav'ns true Jove dethrone . Rome's Dragon next our Champion did engage , The same that dar'd of old th' Arch-Angel's Rage , And flush'd once more with Arbitrary Pow'r , Waited Eusebia's Off-spring to devour : But , when his Torrent-Pride did highest swell , Confronted by this second Michael , fell . And when at last he saw ( as 't was but just , The Champion with his rescu'd Charge to Trust ) Eusebia's Altars made His Guardian-care , With Jaws expanded , through the blasted Air , Belch'd Curses , the last Refuge of Despair . These Monsters quell'd , no Sphinx or Hydra rose , But whom He did with like Success oppose . Then , as first Heroes doubly gain Applause , By Conquests , and prescribing righteous Laws ; Thus did our Pious Guide just Precepts give , Both how to Think aright , and how to Live. The Cheats of Syren Vice expos'd to view , And Vertue in her native Beauty drew : Of her bright Paths a Prospect did display , Where smiling Peace and harmless Pleasures lay ; Did straying Souls to her Enclosure bring , With charming Accents , such as Halcyons sing , Or Evening Zephyrs when they woo the Spring . Heav'n He describ'd as 't were His native Home , And He an Envoy from those Regions come . But Vertue 's Image and the Graces , best In his bright Mind and Practice were exprest . Divinely Humble in Preferment 's Height ; Nor then disdain'd on needy Worth to wait : High Station only did his Beams extend , But none in his Advancement lost a Friend . By Judgment 's Compass ev'ry Course he Steer'd , And watch'd the Signals e'er the Storm appear'd : His Prudence o'er the Syrges did prevail , With Ballast still proportion'd to his Sail. Precipitately ne'er assum'd a Trust , To Promise Slow , but in Performance , Just. Of Temper calm , and Sanatively cool , As Jordan's Current , or Bethesda's Pool : By Grace Instructed , and by Nature mild , Nor relisht Life but when he Reconcil'd : His Carriage , Words and Works , breath'd Gospel All ; His very Look was Evangelicall . His Life and Aspect did just Patterns give What Figures Angels make , and how they Live. Th' Appearance of his Person brought a Charm That cou'd at Sight contentious Rage disarm . So Boistrous Winds that furiously contend , And Sea and Air in wild Disorder blend , At Neptune's Presence , o'er the Waves Display'd , Sculk to their Caverns , and the Storm is Layd . To Souls opprest with Sickness or with Grief , His Visits , like an Angels , brought Relief : When wrong'd , repeated Pardons did extend ; To Suffer Resolute , tim'rous to Offend . His wond'rous Charity no Limits knew , But , like Heav'ns Manna , in the gathering , Grew . His Bounty ne'er by Limbeck-drops distill'd , But in large Show'rs the thirsty Valleys fill'd . In Giving , some express such grutching Grief , That Want it self repines at the Relief ; But he so Cheerfully did still impart , That with his Alms he seem'd to give his Heart . But Day , my Muse , will from our Sphere retreat , E'er we his Vertues Garland can compleat ; Nor all thy fairer Sisters that frequent Pirene's Banks , on that one Labour bent , Tho' Fancy's Treasure shou'd be drein'd , can raise The full proportion'd Tribute of his Praise . Sons of Mortality , Learn'd , Pious , Wise ; Who boast no less than Kindred with the Skies ; See where Entomb'd your great Example lies ! Well! since his Spirit its native Skies regains , We 'll celebrate at least its dear Remains ; From Fate it self we 'll force the sad Relief , The mournfull Comfort to indulge our Grief . Permit ye Stars , who now his Presence boast , Earth's wretched Sons , to tell what they have lost ! But he who justly will perform this Part , Must Truth consult , no study'd Rules of Art ; Invoke no Helicon but Jordan's Spring , And for his Epicede an Anthem bring . Much less can our unconsecrated Verse , His deathless Apotheosis rehearse . 'T is in a Sublunary Muse's Pow'r , To furnish Trophies for a Conquerour ; Home to his Palace from the vanquish'd Plain , Expanded Fancy may the Pomp maintain ; But oh ! when Vertue 's Triumph we would paint , The Progress sing of some departing Saint , When some Elijah must to Heav'n be caught , From Heav'n the flaming Chariot must be brought : In such a Flight our Pegasus will Fire , To mount that Wain aloft there must conspire The Whirl-Winds rapid Wings , and Steeds of Fire . The Tishbite's fiercer Spirit , when ravisht hence , ( Whose Ministery in Terrors did commence ) With such tempestuous Rapture might dispence ; But Transport , like our Prophet's Soul , Serene , Grac'd his pacifick Life's concluding Scene ; From Earth translated , gently , to the Skies , As Angels that on Flames of Incense rise . From high , where gratefull Throngs about him press Of Souls by him directed up to Bliss ; His Spir't looks down , and sees the Past'ral Chair Supply'd , and made his mild Successor's Care : ( For Heav'n their Minds Resemblance form'd Compleat , Like the Twin-Cherubs of the Mercy-Seat . ) Our Altars made so kind a Guardian 's Charge , Does , ev'n in Paradise , his Joys enlarge ; Pleas'd that Eusebia does once more rejoyce , Once more applaud her pious Monarch's Choice . FINIS . Notes, typically marginal, from the original text Notes for div A62908-e250 * The Church of England .